Zeb Towne for America

Beth Alois, George Badey, Mitt Romney, Patricia Worrell. Demarco, Bonner, Killion, Obama. Their names scroll by my window on the way to work, imprinted on 2’x1’ placards, secured to the ground by thin, flimsy stakes. The names jump out at me from their square little pieces of real estate. There is a strikingly similar taste in colors: white, blue and red seem to carry the day. Stars are omnipresent, and a variety of legislative positions seem to accompany these names: State Senator, State Congresswoman, Auditor General, Dogcatcher. Lots of jobs, which lots of people seem to want. Reminds me of the Gore Vidal line: “Any American who is prepared to run for president should automatically, by definition, be disqualified from ever doing so.” I wonder if that applies to Dogcatchers? (for those playing the home game, Duxbury, Vermont still elects its dog catchers. The incumbent is Zeb Towne. Good on ya Zeb.)

Lawn signs. The world wants them. Specifically, the world wants lawn signs with the names of Misters Obama and Biden affixed upon them. The wold wants ‘em, and we ain’t got ‘em. Which is good, because every effective blog is built upon conflict.

On an average day 11 people will come into our office looking for lawn signs that do not exist. As I write this it is 10:07am, and we have already turned away two people. After these junkies find that their free-standing fix cannot be scored in this particular place on this particular day, they tend to get a bit scratchy in my general direction. We (the couple of volunteers and paid staff that actually run the office) have been told that we are “dumb”, “stupid”, and “idiots”. We have committed a “huge mistake” and are “punting the election”. As always, crucial to remember: this is not the opposition. These are our supporters. 

Pennsylvania is a battleground state, worth 20 electoral votes. Now I am not saying that President Obama or Governor Romney would kill a homeless vagrant for 20 electoral votes (that’s what interns are for). But they don’t call them swinger states for nothing: whoever they go home with ends up in the fancy house. The stakes are sky-high, and a relatively small number of people will determine this election. Pennsylvanians are used to being courted. They are used to lawn sign wars; presidential candidates fighting for their territory as if it covered untapped oil. That’s how it’s always been. Campaigns don’t just give away lawn signs, they beg for space on your grass knolls. And that is exactly what Mitt Romney’s campaign has done. If there’s one thing the Republican Party knows, it’s two-dimensional proxies (couldn’t resist). But in the eyes of many Pennsylvanians, two dimensions is better than none. Barack Obama, leader of the free world, is a shocking no-show in the lawn sign derby.

There are reasons for this, of course. Smart people didn’t just decide that they wanted to lose an election. The decision was made to not give out lawn signs; to channel funds and time into phones, printers, staff, and offices. These are the things that comprise our “ground game”. These are the tools we will use to wring every last potential vote out of the electorate in the Keystone State. Smart, experienced people decided that in the dollars-to-votes equation, lawn signs were spectacularly inefficient. For whatever it is worth, I agree with them.

Lawn signs can’t vote. That is the premise of a splendid, snarky piece written about lawn signs. It highlights the main problem with using lawn signs: they devour time. Each lawn sign consumes, on average, three man-hours from the campaign. This time is spent ordering, waiting for deliveries, sorting, then delivering to the public. And once you’ve got them in the ground, you have about two days before some punk kid rips all of them out of the ground (on a brisk night in 2003, myself and two friends uprooted 13 lawn signs in an attempt to influence an election. Thus began my political activism).  All that volunteer-time could be spent canvassing or phone-banking; producing actual connections with actual voters and communicating a personal message, not a name and a slogan. 

In their defense, their have been studies showing that lawn signs can increase name recognition. This relies on the fact that when John Q Public goes into the voting booth and knows nothing, he’ll vote for the guy he’s heard of before. Couple of things wrong with that, but no matter which way you slice it, it makes no difference for our campaign. The candidate I work for is the President. People know him. He’s kind of a big deal. The mantra is repeated again and again throughout the article, “yard signs don’t vote”. 

I can mock and I can laugh, but really, people take this seriously. Democrats all over the whole state are deeply upset. The refrains are similar, and strikingly personal. People talk about living in “enemy territory”. I’ve heard people describe, time after time, how disheartening it is to see their street covered in Romney/Ryan signage, with nary a Team Blue banner to be seen. They feel isolated, even abandoned. You think I’m joking. I’m not joking. They feel forgotten and betrayed, and they don’t understand why. 

What makes people feel this strongly about some flimsy emblems? I’m not entirely sure. It seems obvious to me that anyone who wants a lawn sign must be firm in their conviction about their candidate; I don’t think people are auctioning their vote off for merchandise (though that would be funny). So they know who they are voting for. Are they worried about potential independents? I don’t think so. The appeals are almost always personal in nature. None of them have yet explained how they think these signs are going to win us new votes. Rather, they seem preoccupied with ‘their’ neighborhood, ‘their’ territory. 

My final piece of evidence: as per policy, whenever someone comes in requesting a lawn sign, I explain that we have none. Some people understand, some are frustrated. But before I let them leave, I make sure to ask if they are interested in volunteering. Every single one has said no. Not only have they said no, they reminded me of myself trying to escape an ex-girlfriend: backing away slowly, eyes searching for an exit, prepared to create a person-sized hole in the wall should it come to that. 

I get it. There are so many legitimate reasons not to come in and volunteer: kids, parents, illness, busy. And let’s face it: this is not thrilling work. But I also see enough people drag themselves in after work, enough parents who bring their kids, and enough adults who bring their parents. Why are these freaking signs so important to people who don’t care enough about the campaign to actually work for it? If you’re in, then you should be in. 

Truth is, not everybody wants to be in. Campaigning is a dirty, unattractive business, and a lot of people want nothing to do with it, and I respect that. Phone-calling, canvassing, these things are intangible. A sign, that you can hold in your hand. Lawn signs, bumper stickers, lapel pins, these are ways of showing support without actually supporting anything. If you believe in the aims of a candidate, if you truly think that they can improve our country, then doesn’t it come down to looking good or doing good?  These signs and symbols are only powerful because they represent a group of committed people who are trying to change the world for the better. Otherwise they’re just litter.

To conclude I will do the only sensible thing: blame the candidates. Barack Obama asked people to believe in him, an inexperienced freshman senator from Illinois and Hawaii and Kenya. He stood in front of a nation and implored us to summon our better angels, to choose a different, harder path. And we did. People bought in. People took the plunge. They chose to believe. Four years later, the affection goes only one way. Many people still believe in and love this President. They want to show that support on their very own lawns. But the campaign doesn’t support them. It doesn’t care about their lawns, it cares about their votes. This is not just the Obama campaign. All campaigns ask voters to fall in love with their candidate, knowing that the candidate will never fall in love with the voters. That works the first time around. Then eventually, people begin to wonder, what exactly is my relationship to this man/woman? How can I have a stake in them without a sign to put on it? The idea behind campaign organizing is to get people invested in their country's, their community's future. We’re asking for support: thankless, banner-less support. Or, as I believe it’s normally called, faith.